


skin eater

by ilandalandan



Category: ENHYPEN (Band), I-LAND (Korea TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Dark, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Government Experimentation, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Monsters, Paranormal, Romance, Twisted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27005311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilandalandan/pseuds/ilandalandan
Summary: do monsters fall in love? that is the question.
Relationships: Kim Sunoo/Park Sunghoon
Comments: 20
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Just a little something dark and strange. Please enjoy!**

_“i’m sorry.”_

those are the words that his mother whispers against his hair each night, the syllables wrapped in warm and tender kisses. she never says what it is she’s sorry about, and he never asks. but there’s only one reason why he doesn’t, and that’s because he’s supposed to be asleep. her visits happen hours after bedtime, and she’ll get mad if she finds out he’s awake. so he pretends. she apologizes. night after night, in the shadows of one cheap apartment after another, she thinks sunoo can’t hear her. but he can, and there are times when he can sleep only once he hears his nightly lullaby.

_“i’m sorry.”_

on some instances, there are tears along with the words. those are the evenings when they don’t have enough food or electricity, their one source of cheer the light of a candle. his mother’s kisses get replaced then, by clinging arms and racking shivers. and under a mound of fraying blankets, she speaks as the window frames rattle to a nonexistent wind. sunoo pretends not to hear her like he always does, letting the apology and its cadence pull him under where it’s dark and safe.

_“i’m sorry.”_

and these refrains in the dark continue as he gets older. that is, until the night before sunoo turns eighteen. he waits, but his mother doesn’t visit him. curled up in bed, he listens but there’s nothing.

the next morning, his birthday gift is a trip to the cemetery.

dried leaves crunch underfoot as they walk beneath a sky that’s getting ready for dusk, weaving in and out of a maze that are tombstones. the surfaces are all dark—engraved names faded and unreadable, or else lost beneath the moss.

forgotten. _i’m sorry._

someone’s sweeping the grass, and the sound of it provides a calming ambiance to an otherwise eerie place. sunoo doesn’t ask questions as they walk on; he usually doesn’t. but he should have, starting with the nightly apologies and ending with this:

_why are we in a graveyard?_

a small wooden house comes to view after what feels like hours, dreary in faded old rose. its trimmings had to have been white once, but it’s closer to black now. the sweeping becomes louder then— _and there he is._ there’s a man in ratty overalls and a wide-brimmed hat who’s sweeping the ground using a rake. his movements, languid and precise, comes to a halt when he spots them, and sunoo’s mother lifts a hand in a tentative wave.

“ah,” the man says pleasantly but with a grim smile, pushing the brim of his hat up with a gloved hand to be able to peer at them better. “mrs. kim. we’ve been expecting you.”

but not a man as his face is revealed. a _boy._ he may even be sunoo’s age or thereabouts, and how handsome he is despite the dark circles under his eyes and the pasty look to his skin. their eyes meet, and sunoo’s heart does a little somersault.

“are you sunoo? i’m sunghoon.”

sunoo feels himself blush, and sunghoon licks his lips at the sight, all while he busies himself with trying to respond.

“yes, hi. it’s nice to meet you.”

that’s the exact moment sunoo’s mother bursts into tears, singing his lullaby one last time.

_“i’m sorry.”_

his mother tells him she’s fine as they sit on an old and dusty couch. after that she refuses to speak, sipping on her green tea with trembling hands. the drink tastes terrible, but it softens the old and hard bread that came with it so there’s that. for a while, they’re left only with the sounds of sipping and chewing, the day silent as it wanes outside. sunghoon is gone, the only trace of him his gloves and hat that he left on an armchair. just minutes before, he’d made sunoo blush again, casting him a fleeting but pointed look that left him all tingly and self-conscious.

“let me call my brothers mrs. kim, sunoo-ssi. excuse me.”

turning the light on and letting a yellowish glow engulf the room, sunghoon had walked down a darkened hallway after, making little to no sound.

“who is he?”

 _foolish, naive boy._ of all the questions to ask, this is the one that sunoo chooses as he turns to his mother with a bite to his lip. but his mother doesn’t respond, draining her tea in the same manner one would take a shot of strong liquor.

“mrs. kim, welcome back.”

the voice that greets them is overly cheerful, and sunoo turns to the hallway. he has to bite back a gasp. if sunghoon had been pale, the older boy standing beside him now is even more so. something about him causes the hairs on the back of sunoo’s neck to stand up, and he sits closer to his mother with a repressed shiver.

“ _finally,_ you’re here.”

sunghoon’s other brother is as frightening to look at, neither smiling nor frowning like a statue, and sunoo is thankful he doesn’t have to be in the same room with either of them for too long. and that is because, the _children_ had been politely asked to scram—the adults needed to talk. from there, sunghoon had taken the lead and they were off.

“i can show you around.”

which is how sunoo finds himself walking among headstones with a handsome boy by his side during his birthday. it’s not how he pictured this day, or any day for that matter, at all.

“so you grew up in the city?”

sunoo glances at sunghoon, who hasn’t stopped staring, at his question. nodding, he turns away to watch where he’s going, unable to hold the intent gaze.

“yes. and you?”

“here. i’ve never left the cemetery.”

sunoo blinks, forehead creasing in curiosity.

“oh? how come?”

the shrug he gets in response makes strands of dark hair fall over half of sunghoon’s face, but it does nothing to hide the downward droop of his lips.

“wonchul-hyung says my future is here. why leave?”

sunoo doesn’t agree with that, but he doesn’t want to be disrespectful either. so he lets the subject drop with a thoughtful hum, and they stroll in silence before—

“haehyo-hyung says it’s your birthday. is this true?”

sunoo smiles and nods. “it is. i didn’t think i’d spend it in a graveyard though.”

sunghoon tilts his head a little, this time the one curious. “why not? other people die so you can live—isn’t this the best place to celebrate it? to honor the death that gave you life?”

sunoo is taken aback by that. _what?_

“you’re a little strange,” he says with an affectionate note, already liking this boy and not only for his looks. sunoo is a bit odd himself after all. they’re a match. “i can show you the city sometime.”

sunghoon only smiles wistfully at that as he shoves his hands inside his pockets, heaving a quiet sigh.

“i would’ve liked that.”

but before sunoo can ask about the strange phrasing of that answer, the calmness gets shattered by an ear-splitting scream.

_do you know how we are made?_ we were human once. _and then we eat people who are only coming of age_ —coming of age, remember that! _that’s important! not too young and not too old…_ somewhere in between. _the transition is important too, in itself: from child to not, so feast on them on their name day._ and they taste good too, absolutely delicious… _know how we can tell? they’re rosy and warm._ that means they’re fresh. _you’ll know once you take a bite, so take a big one!_ soft and yielding flesh, warm and bloody… _are you ready to become one of us, sunghoonie?_

sunghoon is not.

sunoo’s looking at him with wide eyes, frozen by the scream that is no more. mrs. kim is dead, sunghoon knows. and as for sunoo, it’s time to kill him as planned.

or not necessarily kill— _eat._

grasping sunoo by the shoulders and pulling him close when he tries to run back where they came from, sunghoon buries his nose against his neck and inhales. _sweat, fear, surprise, salt._ he’s always been told that humans taste the best when they’re afraid. and he wants a bite, if only to know whether it’s true. but sunoo’s smiles are too pretty, too genuine, too pure. sunghoon doesn’t understand, _but he can’t do it._

it’s time for a change of plans.

“she’s dead sunoo-ssi. we have to run,” sunghoon says as he steps back with difficulty, clenching his teeth. the urge to get a mouthful of flesh is strong, and he can already imagine his teeth sinking, _sinking…_ he moves but sunoo doesn’t follow him.

_“i said we have to run!”_

sunoo looks from the path that leads back to the house and then back at him, his eyes wide and gleaming with a dawning realization.

“they’re… you’re one of them, aren’t you?” sunoo takes a step back, looking panic-stricken and ready to run the opposite direction. “one of those creatures?!”

sunghoon snarls, angry yes but teeth also begging for something juicy, something that tastes like liquid rust.

 _“not yet!_ not if i don’t eat you and i won’t! please, we have to go—my brothers will be here soon!”

and it’s true. unless he makes his first kill, in this case sunoo, part of sunghoon is still human. sunoo is still hesitating, but one of his fists unclenches as he slowly reaches out, afraid but also unsure.

“you can get us out of here?”

sunghoon wants to cry with relief, but there are other things that need doing before that. he nods his head, already hearing someone approaching, and grabs sunoo’s hand with a yank.

“i can, _please,_ we have to go!”

> **_this is command center, kim sunoo is on the move—please prepare to intercept. ghouls on the caretaker’s house have both been disposed of, and mrs. kim is wounded but alive. ensure all evidence is erased, and burn the bodies. remember: take the spawn alive._ ** **i repeat,** **_take the spawn alive._**

under the cover of a deepening night, they run.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Just a little disturbing and a little sweet. I hope you enjoy.**

they don’t stop running for a long, hard while. 

when they finally do, lost enough that sunoo doubts they’ll be found since both he and sunghoon don’t seem to have any idea where they’ve ended up, they lean against the sturdy trunks of towering oak trees, catching their missing breaths and protected only by the shade of a darkened forest. 

“are you ok?”

sunoo swallows, thirsty beyond belief, and looks up slowly at sunghoon’s question. considering the events of earlier, should he be? of course not! who in their right mind would be?

“you know what happened back there, right? _of course i’m not_ —”

sunghoon straightens almost immediately, waving a hand in the air and catching drifting moonlight against the pale skin of his face as he steps forward. he looks otherworldly, equal parts scary and fascinating, and sunoo wonders how in the world anyone can be so breathtakingly handsome _and_ horrifying at the same time. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t make it clear. i meant right now. are you ok? i can see… and i can smell you.”

sunoo stills, confused and wary in a heartbeat. if sunghoon is what he thinks the boy is, then smelling him in any way isn’t a good thing.

“smell… what smell?”

sunghoon takes a deliberate step back, perhaps like an assurance of some sort or just to be as far from sunoo as possible, and becomes nothing more but an outline in the darkness. 

“your blood. you fell a lot while we were fumbling around in here. you must have injured yourself.”

had he? sunoo takes the time to feel himself out, going still and becoming more self aware. slowly and with the adrenaline wearing off, he starts to feel where he hurts, and more than just the stitch on his side that has been killing him for a while. to be specific, his left knee and his left arm, above his right eyebrow, and the heel of his palms all have a sharp stinging pain to them. huh. 

“you need to clean up those wounds, and you probably need a drink. we’re close to a body of water.”

sunoo still can’t see sunghoon, and it makes him a little nervous all of a sudden. running away with him had been a great idea minutes back, but here and now, sunoo’s no longer sure. after all—

“i won’t eat you if that’s what you’re worried about,” sunghoon suddenly says, stepping further back, and sunoo hears it when his back connects with the trunk of a tree: it must have been done harder than necessary because the thunk of bony flesh on wood is a solid sound. “i promise.”

“i wasn’t worried about that,” sunoo lies with an attempt at a casual laugh, drawing a heaving sigh. 

“i can smell your fear, too.” 

sunoo doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just ignores it and focuses on the things that need to be done. sunghoon is right: he needs to clean up his wounds and he does want a drink—now to find that body of water… _wait._

“you said you can see me,” sunoo says aloud, almost like he’s talking to himself. “and that you know there’s water nearby. how?”

“i can see just fine in the dark,” sunghoon replies, voice meek as if he’s not sharing what has to be the most amazing thing sunoo has ever heard. setting aside what his companion is, _how handy!_ “as for the water, i can taste it in the air.”

“that’s cool,” he says, and sunoo means it. the upsides of who sunghoon is doesn’t really negate what he could’ve done, _could still do,_ to sunoo. but then again, he’s not really doing anything right now either. that’s something, right? “lead the way then? hopefully while telling me where to step and not to.”

there’s a pregnant pause as soon as sunoo slowly lifts a hand for sunghoon to take, and then sunghoon smiles. sunoo doesn’t really see it manifest, but the softness of sunghoon’s words give it away. 

“ok, sure.”

their fingertips meet first, hesitant and wary, but sunghoon’s skin is warm and smooth, comforting in the dimness where sunoo has no one else but him and his super eyes. he holds on tighter and steps right into the personal space that surrounds sunghoon, heart beating wildly in his chest. 

_i’m fine,_ sunoo tells himself. _he’s fine._

“you smell so good,” sunghoon whispers then, the sound of his swallowing deafening in the stillness. his voice is rough, strained; it makes sunoo’s breaths stutter. “i don’t want to hurt you.”

“then don’t,” he whispers back, clutching at the hand that holds his as if it’ll break, fingers so careful they might not even really be there. “don’t.”

it takes about a minute or two, both of them standing there and unwilling to move until sunghoon is ready, but eventually their fingers twine so as to better the hold. that, at least, is sunghoon’s excuse. 

“come on.”

they walk deeper into the woods and into things no one else has been to, has ever tried, teeth clenched and pulse fluttering like a bee’s wings—because how else are they going to begin _this,_ whatever it is?

_is this what the fly felt like, under the spider’s watchful eye?_

washing up takes longer than it should. not blessed with the same nocturnal vision his companion has, sunoo gropes around uselessly more than he cleans the cuts during the first few minutes trying to do so. asking the help of sunghoon is out of the question: it’s just asking for trouble, and anyway, despite not saying a thing, he knows sunghoon wouldn’t want anything to do with his wounds. 

why else had he disappeared so quickly once they reached the river, announcing he’s going to forage and maybe catch a proper meal?

but that’s fine. sunoo can take care of himself, have done so for many years and with nearly next to nothing. tonight is no different—it’s just focusing on an objective and putting everything else that’s not a priority for later. that being said, objective number one right now is clean wounds. 

two, hopefully, is a meal. 

sunghoon doesn’t return for a long time, long enough to make sunoo nervous, but when he does come back, there’s a skip to his step that stops sunoo from demanding where he’d been and what had taken so long. 

“i caught a rabbit!” sunghoon sounds like a child, holding something lumpy and malformed in one hand and showing it to sunoo proudly. it takes a while to make out its shadow where sunghoon is clutching it by the ears, but yes, sunoo eventually sees it: it _is_ a rabbit. “and i’m not sure if the berries i collected are edible—i can try them first to see if they’re poisonous.”

sunoo gapes. “what? _no!”_

there’s an eyeroll in sunghoon’s tone somewhere, petulant boy. 

“i won’t die. poisons don’t kill me.”

sunoo rolls his eyes in return. 

“well aren’t you just lucky,” he mutters, sarcastic. 

sunghoon goes still. 

“am i really?”

_oh._

“anyway,” sunghoon rushes in to fill the gaping silence after his unanswered words, voice a tad breathless as he kneels on the ground in front of sunoo. “i’ll try the berries ok? and sorry we can’t light a fire, i’m scared of fire. and we might be traced—”

“hold up,” sunoo interrupts with a hand raised. he’s starting to see a little better thanks to some moonlight and his eyes adjusting, can actually see a little bit of sunghoon’s expression. “if we can’t light a fire, how are we going to eat the rabbit?”

sunghoon looks confused. 

“raw?”

sunoo’s stomach turns. 

“ _no!_ give me the berries—i choose poison!”

in the end, sunghoon does try a berry and confirms it’s safe to eat, and they make a bargain: sunghoon gets all the rabbit, and sunoo gets all the berries. 

“are you sure you don’t want a bite?” 

sunghoon sounds really concerned even as sunoo starts on the handful of sweet, tangy berries, and he nods his head yes. seeming to be a little reluctant, sunghoon eventually shrugs and tears on a leg with his teeth—and the sound alone nearly makes sunoo vomit, this wet and slurping noise of juicy flesh and breaking bone loud in the never ending gloom of the evening. 

“it’s good,” sunghoon tells him, mouth full, and sunoo can just make the outline of dark stains around his mouth, down his chin, not really red with no light but he has his imagination. “i’ll leave you the other leg.”

sunoo laughs, uneasy. “no, no need to. you can finish all of the rabbit, i’m fine with my berries.”

and so they eat as the night wears on, their space in the woods soon reeking of red rust and something sour, something sweet. sunghoon is a mess when they finish, fingers sticky with fur and blood, and despite his repulsion sunoo laughs, reaches out, swallows down the disgust as he pulls sunghoon nearer the water. 

“let’s clean you up. you’re filthy.”

sunghoon simply offers him a bright and bloody smile.

... and then, once it’s time for sleep, sunghoon dawdles. 

sunoo pauses from finding the best patch of grass to lay on and looks questioningly at sunghoon. he hopes they won’t talk about what happened yet—things are unclear and even more so now that it’s nighttime, and sunoo wants the light of day for this one. 

“what is it? is everything ok?”

“i... um,” sunghoon begins, coy. he almost passes as adorable if not for the stains on his ruined shirt. “i made you a nest.”

sunoo’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline. 

“a what?”

sunghoon doesn’t say anything else, just beckons him to follow, and more out of morbid curiosity, sunoo does. they enter the woods but don’t get very far, the river still a few paces away, and that’s when sunoo sees it.

below the trunk of a cluster of trees and right on the forest floor, there’s a mound of leaves and thin sticks and even flowers, arranged in an oval shape big enough for sunoo to settle into. 

_so that’s why you took so long. it’s not the rabbit._

“i’ll keep watch,” sunghoon volunteers, still shy. “i don’t need much sleep anyway.”

sunoo steps into sunghoon’s nest and can only say one thing, confused and a whole lot of other emotions he doesn’t want to name. 

“thank you.”

sunghoon seats himself at the base of an opposite tree and whispers, far too gentle for a monster: 

“you’re welcome sunoo-yah. good night.”


End file.
